


Cold Blood

by Blackthorne (Stellar_Shiva)



Category: Hellsing, Hellsing Ultimate
Genre: Dark, F/M, Gen, Not for the faint of heart, Original Characters - Freeform, Post-Series, Religious Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26421700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stellar_Shiva/pseuds/Blackthorne
Summary: When God and the Devil make a bet and you are unknowingly caught in the middle, what do you do?This is an AU take on the end of Hellsing Ultimate and post-events of the series. If you are easily offended by the liberal use of religious themes and the like, do not read. Original characters are in use in this story, and again, if this offends you, don't read.Spoilers ahead for those of you who have not watched all of Hellsing Ultimate!
Relationships: Alucard/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 5
Collections: The Kairos Chronicles





	1. God and the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> The song referenced and used fictitiously in this story is "Cold Blood" by Valen. I do not own the song nor am I her or affiliated with her in any way. This song is used fictitiously and for entertainment purposes only. I also reference the old song "Oh Death", specifically the Jen Titus version. Again, same as above.

_When God is gone, and the Devil takes hold; who will have mercy on your soul?_ \--- _Oh Death,_ Jen Titus

“Well, shit.” The fallen angel exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air as she walked into God’s throne room.

He turned his gaze towards her, looking markedly unsurprised at her presence. “Oh? You mean the stalemate that just happened?”

She cast a narrowed glare at him. “You didn’t see THAT coming. You said so yourself!”

God chuckled at her disdain. “Anderson and Alucard killed themselves. That was certainly an interesting twist.”

“Don’t make light of losing our champions.” Lucifer retorted.

God’s eyes darkened. “I’m not. The point is we need to reset the chessboard if you wish to find the conclusion to our bet.”

“If I wish to?” The fallen angel queried, folding her arms over her chest. “You aren’t as infallible as the mortals believe, and you and I both know that. You are at least as arrogant as I am to even entertain this bet. Which makes you a hypocrite for casting me out.” 

“Same song and dance, Lucifer. You can come back anytime you want.” God spoke as he shifted in his throne.

She looked to the side. “I like my independence. In any case,” Lucifer turned to face God, with a smirk, “why don’t we raise the stakes this time? Winner takes all, and the loser yields.”

God smirked back. “Alright. I’ll agree to those terms. We can’t kill each other’s champions ourselves or influence them directly. Outside of the shards of light and darkness being inserted, of course.”

“Same rules as last time? Alright, fine.” Lucifer agreed before vanishing.

Metatron paused their writing and looked up from their place beside God’s throne. “Is this wise, my Lord? I ask out of concern not rebellion.”

God waved off his scribe's concerns, “Lucifer needs to learn once and for all where she sits in the Cosmos. There are things even I cannot control, let alone her; Darkness is not always bad and light is not always good.”


	2. Amnesia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A survivor of The Zeppelin Incident wakes up in a cold cell, wondering what she could have done wrong. Good thing the government is great at delivering bad news...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song referenced and used fictitiously in this story is "Cold Blood" by Valen. I do not own the song nor am I her or affiliated with her in any way. This song is used fictitiously and for entertainment purposes only.

Her consciousness drifted back from the dark mental sea. It was then she felt the solidness of the thinly-padded bench against her back. She opened her eyes to a blurred, stark ceiling. Wincing at the pain that arched through her foggy head, she tried to sit up only to fall back flat on the bench. 

She felt cold and the room was barren; was this death? Was she dead? 

Pictures began to bubble up. The blazing fires and the screaming echoed from horrible images that surely were from a nightmare. She recalled a vampire who had effortlessly scooped up an infant and tore into its stomach; it couldn’t have been something she had seen. The rivers of blood that flowed down the streets, the impaled bodies and the wailing of the dying was just a really bad dream.

That, however, was a pleasant lie. 

The pictures sharpened into actual memories, along with the screams until her eyes snapped fully open. She sat upright, looking around frantically. No blood, no vampires and no dead infant.

The solid walls of the room towered over her, with a lone light bulb hanging from above. The concrete floor was cracked in places and stretched to the corners. 

This wasn’t downtown London, or what had remained of it.

She heard muffled voices somewhere behind the thick, metallic door with a small window off to the right.

Turning her head, she strained her ears to pick up the English the two men outside were speaking.

The door suddenly opened, making her jump what seemed a mile high. Two Englishmen in uniforms carrying a folded table as well as a woman in a suit came in. Her eyes sparkled; the other woman was wearing a lapel pin of the Japanese flag. That meant she was probably from the embassy, or some other Japanese government official!

Relieved, she greeted the two men in English and the woman in Japanese. Her English wasn’t the best nor the worst either. 

The three acknowledged her with varying degrees of stoicism with the woman looking the grimmest. One of the Englishmen produced a chair for the woman to sit in. 

“Seiichi Kaiyo, I am Fujiwara Masako from the Japanese Embassy in Edinburgh. Our representative here is missing so I will be filling in for him. I trust you slept well?” she spoke in their native tongue as she sat down.

Kaiyo rubbed her temples. “As well as can be expected, Ms. Fujiwara.” She answered back in the same language. 

Ms. Fujiwara spoke in English to the two gentlemen too fast for Kaiyo to catch exactly what she was saying. One of them, a blond, stepped forward and introduced himself as Arthur Kirkland and the brunette as Edward Ashford.

Kaiyo nodded to each of them respectfully, still puzzled. Why was she here?

“I am also here to translate for the Englishmen.” Ms. Fujiwara explained. “Pleasantries aside, I’m afraid the situation is very dire, Ms. Seiichi. The current events aside, I’m afraid you have done some very…questionable things during the invasion two days ago that concern both governments.” She added.

Kaiyo drew a mental blank, also surprised she had been asleep that long. “What do you mean, exactly? I don’t recall hardly anything of that night.” 

There was another pause for the delegate to translate for Edward and Arthur, who furrowed their brows in response.

“Nothing at all?” Edward remarked. 

When it was spoken to her in Japanese by Ms. Fujiwara, Kaiyo just shook her head.

“You have been identified by several witnesses as walking through the streets of London from early evening until you collapsed around dawn the next day. From security footage we managed to salvage, there is no question it was you who performed those frightening acts.” Ms. Fujiwara spoke carefully, measuring Kaiyo for a moment.

The younger woman still looked confused. “What did I _do_?” she asked hesitantly.

Ms. Fujiwara looked off to the side for a moment, speaking only to translate before finally stating: “You killed twenty-five Nazi soldiers by yourself, using a dark power that no one should possess. You were also singing some song about ‘no redemption’ in English.” She spoke quietly, looking her dead in the eyes as she produced some photos from her jacket. Wordlessly, they were tossed onto the table in front of Kaiyo.

With a shaky hand and wide eyes, she looked down at the first black and white photo. In the corner was the date and the time-stamp in white-gray letters staring up at her. Her eyes slowly moved to the center. There she was, in her semi-ruined sun-dress, with a disturbingly calm look on her face which was splattered with blood. Her dress was peppered with blood splotches as well as her calves down to her shoes. What caught her surprise were the shadowy limbs produced from some sort of darkness that had formed on the ground and had condensed around and on her back. The had extended outward several feet, tearing horrified Nazi soldiers limb from limb and spraying blood everywhere. The rest of the pictures were much of the same.

_Nobody left when all the dust has settled;  
You keep on trying, but I see cold, cold blood…_

Those words that she had sung over and over rolled back into her mind like a haze.

_Don't you hide; there will be,  
No redemption.  
There's no God;  
No machine;  
No salvation…_

_Cold, cold blood…  
Cold, cold blood…  
You keep on trying;  
but I see cold, cold blood…_

“Cold, cold blood…” Kaiyo uttered as tears began to fall down her cheeks. She remembered that night from hell in fragments. She had been running for her life, completely terrified. Things got hazy after she saw the vampire soldier lift the baby from its stroller and torn into it. It had been too much for her mind to bear. She had snapped.

Ms. Fujiwara watched expressionless as she cried, waiting silently for her to finish. When Kaiyo’s sobs faded into sniffles, she spoke again: “The Japanese government has taken advisement and we have made our decision. We have decided that we do not extend citizenship to non-humans. I am sorry, but you are not welcome back in Japan at this time.”

A heavy silence settled over the room, interrupted only by Ms. Fujiwara translating for the Englishmen. Anger blazed in Arthur’s eyes but Edward shook his head at him.

Kaiyo lowered her head and said nothing. Her body became rigid. The coldness seeped from the room into her soul and bones. So many things she wanted to say but her lips wouldn’t cooperate.

After a pause, Ms. Fujiwara continued,“I believe I am done here. Good luck to you, Ms. Seiichi.” She rose, giving a quick nod and a bow to Kaiyo. Without another word, she walked out with the Englishmen, the door clanging shut behind them. Several clicks indicated the locks sliding into place. Then silence once again.


	3. Faith Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heinkel ventures into the jungle after hearing rumors of a saint living among the pagans. What she does find is strange, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song referenced and used fictitiously in this story is "Oh Death" by Jen Titus. I do not own the song nor am I her or affiliated with her in any way. This song is used fictitiously and for entertainment purposes only.

Heinkel made a sweeping motion with her machete to cut through the jungle underbrush. She was more than irritated, and it wasn’t just the undergrowth. Yumie and Father Anderson were both dead, and she was the new head of Iscariot. Forty-eight hours later and the feelings were still raw, but she had to see if the rumors were true: that God had selected a new champion in the bumfuck reaches of India.

Her blond hair was stuck to the sides of her exposed face through the bandages, and her good eye was focused on the path ahead. She had to persevere, because the Lord’s work was far more important than the tremendous grief that weighed on her shoulders. 

The translator and the two priests she brought with her remained silent in their wisdom, noting her vendetta against the jungle greenery. Birds and insects avoided her fury, sensing something was very wrong with her.

It was a sticky sort of heat that soaked through their clothes and latched onto their dirt-smeared skin. Suddenly, Heinkel stopped dead in her tracks, listening. Very quiet steps could faintly be heard treading to their right. 

Suddenly a tiger leapt, previously unseen uponLowercase here Heinkel. The translator screamed and the priests took out their guns. However, she was quicker than that and shoved the machete as hard as she could through the tiger’s skull through its open jaws. Blood sprayed everywhere, including the two priests and partially on the translator.

Heinkel kicked the corpse off of her blood-laden self and stood up, turning to the others. “We are proceeding forward.” Was all she said, with emphasis.

The priests put their guns away nervously and began to walk. The translator was still shaking in her spot. Heinkel whirled to face her. 

“Did. I. Stutter?”

The translator shook her head and hurried to catch up with the others.

Two hours later, they finally made to the remote village. They received strange looks from the outliers of the festival that appeared to be going on. The rest were lined up under an animal-hide tent.  
Underneath it sat a European priest and an Indian woman who was laying her hands on the people who came up and healing them with a white light.

“In Jesus’ name, you are healed. Amen.” Said the priest with a smile to one supplicant. The healer smiled as well as the supplicant muttered what Heinkel guessed were thank you and went off.

The healer looked over at the priest. “You know they don’t understand you.” She said in English.

The priest smiled back at her. “Not yet they don’t, but God works in mysterious ways. We are doing His work by trying to save their souls from their pagan ways, Sumati.”

Sumati looked flatly at him. “These are our traditions we have had hundreds of years before Christ. Show some respect. I agree that your way is better than some of our practices, but it cannot entirely replace our culture.”

The priest looked taken aback by her statement.

Heinkel smirked. So, a missionary had already taught her English and some history; good. The woman needed some work, but the overall situation was better than she had expected. They began their approach. Sumati glanced over while the priest’s jaw dropped.

The natives cleared out enough to give the newcomers space to approach Sumati and her companion. However, they watched with a leery gaze, silently warning them to keep their distance from the healer.

Heinkel turned her gaze to Sumati. “English?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.” Sumati responded.

“Who are you people exactly?” the priest spoke up.

“I am Heinkel, a priest of the Roman Catholic Church, specifically the Vatican. We have an interest in this young lady.”

“I am Father David Smith, a pastor and a missionary representing the Baptist church in India. What business do you have with Sumati?” the priest asked suspiciously.

Heinkel scoffed. “That’s none of your business, Protestant swine.”

Father David puffed up. “I am here to represent Ms. Sumati’s interests as well as this villages. She is a blessed healer sent by God to help me save the souls of her village.”

Sumati interjected, “I agreed to do no such thing. Educate them, yes. But don’t get confused. You taught me English and agreed to teach me on the promise that I could teach the other villagers. You said nothing about turning them into whatever follower of your God that you are. By the way, I can speak for myself.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared at Father David.

“There you have it.” Heinkel said with almost too much satisfaction to Father David. She then turned her gaze to Sumati.

“You have been chosen by God; there is no questioning that. However, it is not in the way that this idiot thinks you are. The powers bestowed upon you go far beyond healing. You can do so much more with them under our instruction than with him.”

Sumati looked into her eye. “I can tell when people lie to me, but you are being honest. I’ll hear you out. Where exactly is this Vatican?”

Father David looked horrified. “You aren’t seriously considering going with them, are you?!”

They ignored him and continued their conversation.

Heinkel spoke quietly to one of the priests that came with her. A moment later, he produced a map. She took it and pointed to the southern coast of India. “This is where we are.” Sumati nodded as Heinkel traced her finger to the Vatican City on the Italian peninsula. “This is where the Vatican is.”

“I see.” Sumati thoughtfully nodded.

However,” she began, “I have my own conditions if I go.”

“I’m listening.” Heinkel responded.

“My village stays as it is; no more talk of conversion. Secondly,I want them to be educated about the outside world.  
Lastly, I want Father David dead; he has betrayed my trust.”

Heinkel and the two Iscariot priests grinned while David stood up.  
He began to shake. “Now surely—”

Before he could react, Heinkel took out her machete and slashed his throat open, blood spraying from the wound. He collapsed on the ground, wide-eyed and bleeding out. 

Sumati looked down at him. “You are a liar. Durga punishes liars. I was wondering how to deal with you but these priests did it for me. Now rot.” With that she turned to face Heinkel.

“That woman with you will not keep quiet; I can see it in her eyes. Kill her.” Sumati instructed.

Heinkel nodded as one of the other priests shot the translator on sight.

“Good; before we leave I will handle the villagers.” Sumati nodded, walking before the crowd of onlookers. She raised her hands to the sky and looked up reverently, and the villagers began to cheer.

She gave them simple instructions not to let any other pale-skinned people into the village or speak to them unless they were dressed like the Iscariot priests.

Sumati then went into the shrine area to gather her things and set off into the jungle with Heinkel. 

_My name is Death and the end is here..._


End file.
